The Secret Path

Hols.’
‘Right?’ Holly asked indignantly.
‘But you still slept with him?’
‘Yeah, of course. He looked really sad. You know those puppy-dog eyes he gets . . .’
‘I do. So cute.’
Holly sighed. ‘But anyway, he knows that’s it now. I can’t be distracted by this kind of drama. I swear – no more men for me for a bit.’
‘Good idea. Take some time out, let everything settle.’
Behind them, coming up the sandy path, the Household Cavalry was going through its drills, the clatter of brass breastplates and highly polished weaponry and the steady drumbeat of hooves drawing ever closer.
Tara took another sip of coffee as they turned down West Carriage Drive, heading for the rush-hour stampede along Kensington Gore.
‘And I suppose you had another night of beautiful lovemaking with Pretty Boy?’
Tara grinned. ‘Pretty much.’
‘Ugh, you’re nauseating. It’s completely contemptible, all this unblemished happiness. And . . . and it’s boring, actually. Where are the highs, if there are never any lows?’
‘In bed,’ Tara shrugged.
‘Oh shut up! Come on, you’ve got to give me something – a chink in the armour. No one’s life is this perfect.’
Tara thought for a moment. ‘Well, he cooked me chicken risotto for dinner and if I’m being really honest . . . it was a little dry.’
Holly’s lip curled. ‘That’s it? That’s your chink?’
‘Make way for the Blues and Royals!’ The warning call from the Horse Master meant the cavalry was almost upon them now and they automatically moved out of the way, standing patiently on the sidelines as several hundred tonnes of glistening horses trotted past, the soldiers dressed in full regalia of shiny buttons and sharp spurs, red full-length cavalry coats, extravagant gold silky plumes swaying from their helmets. It was the same routine every morning, a part of their commute to lectures, but the thrill never diminished. This was also a wholly British thing – that and the torturous politeness Alex found so baffling – and a smile escaped her as she remembered his proposal last night. How a joke had turned into something profound and life-changing . . .
‘What are you smiling about?’ Holly asked, noticing how her friend was staring into space, biting down on the rim of her KeepCup. ‘One of them tip you a wink, did they? Rascals!’ she laughed as the soldiers passed by, stares dead ahead and impassive.
Tara turned to face her. ‘Alex proposed last night.’
Holly’s jaw dropped open. It was like watching a trapdoor fall. ‘. . . What?’
Tara nodded. ‘I know, I can’t believe it either. It was all such a surprise. For him too. He hadn’t planned it.’ Holly was staring at her, open-mouthed. Carefully, Tara pushed her friend’s jaw back up again. ‘Well, say something!’
‘What the actual fuck?’ The teasing quality in Holly’s voice had disappeared and now reverberated, hollow with shock.
Tara hesitated. ‘. . . Say something else.’
‘Tits!’
One of the gold plumes twitched in their direction. Tits was her friend’s unique nickname for her, combined from her initials, TT, and not because she was especially well endowed. No one else called her by it – they didn’t dare – and it was reserved for moments of either extreme happiness or extreme annoyance. From the look on Holly’s face . . .
‘He asked you to marry him?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you’re twenty.’
‘You make that sound like twelve.’
‘It basically is.’ They stared at one another, the moment becoming ever more awkward as Holly’s lack of instinctive joy grew more apparent. She gave a short, hollow laugh as she realized it too. ‘I mean . . . I’m happy for you, of course I am.’
Tara blinked at the weak lie. Her friend sounded like she was being strangled and even her distinctive fiery red corkscrew curls were beginning to look a little limp.
‘A-and you . . . clearly fancy the pants off each other,’ she stammered. ‘And he makes you laugh. You’re always laughing.’
Tara frowned. ‘But?’
Holly’s shoulders slumped. ‘Why can’t you wait? Even if you weren’t going to be a child-bride, you’ve still only been together a few months.’
Tara could only shrug. ‘Neither one of us ever planned on getting married so young. I totally expected to be in my thirties, but it’s turned out how they say in books – when you know, you know. Really, the question to us is – why wait?’
‘Because you’re twenty.’
‘You said that already. I don’t think our age is that big a deal,’ Tara said calmly, but her heart was pounding. Holly’s reaction had been completely unexpected. She had known it would be a shock – as it had been for her – but her friend’s clear reservations about it, her inability to convincingly pretend that this was a good idea . . .
They walked in silence for a while, each lost in their own conflicted thoughts. ‘And there you were, letting me bang on about Dev,’ Holly muttered. She gave a little frown. ‘How did he take it when you told him he’s going to be Mr Tara Tremain? And don’t tell me he’s completely fine with it,’ she said sternly. ‘He might have that sexy, dishevelled vibe going on, but the guy’s also got ego.’
Tara swallowed. ‘Well, actually, I haven’t told him that bit yet.’
‘Still?’ Holly’s voice scaled up two octaves. ‘I don’t get it! What exactly are you waiting for?’
‘The right time.’
Holly raised an eyebrow again. ‘And that moment where the two of you decided to join your lives together for all eternity – that wasn’t the right time?’
Tara winced. ‘I know. I fumbled the bag, I should have told him then.’
‘Duh!’
‘It was just all happening so fast. I didn’t want to . . . spoil the moment.’
‘Yeah, because discovering your future father-in-law is actually a billionaire is what everyone calls having a bad day.’
Tara jogged her friend with her elbow just as Holly went to take another sip, so that a smudge of whipped cream moustached her top lip. ‘I’ve told you before, it complicates things.’ Although she’d never told Holly just how much. She preferred not to remember the time her best friend at boarding school had been selling stories about her to the press, or how the girls in her dorm had thought it funny to steal an item from her every day because ‘she